It Matters
by Oasis Blackmore
Summary: Ron comes across an old mirror that he remembers from long ago. He sees something he never would have expected. How will this sighting change the way he feels about one of his best friends? Oneshot.


**A/N: All right, this is the new and improved version of my previous attempt at my first oneshot, It Matters. So, yea . . . Here it is. I hope it's better. Heh heh.**

It Matters

Hermione and Harry pored over a book on some official thing or another. Ron was sprawled on the hearthrug, trying to finish his potions essay. Hermione, as usual had refused to let him use hers "as reference", so he was on his own. "Drat!" he exclaimed, hopping up, "I have to go to the library. I'll be right back." He ran out of the room, and it seemed that neither Harry nor Hermione noticed his leave at all.

The corridors were deserted, simply because it was after dark and students weren't supposed to be wandering about.

Ron was secretly glad to get away from what he called "the happy couple." Recently, Harry and Hermione had spent all of their time looking things up. Ron, seeing as he knew less than nothing about _why_ they were researching--they hadn't told him--had been shoved to the side, so he was feeling rather jealous.

He reached the library only to find that the doors were closed and locked. He groaned. "Great."

"Did you hear that, Mrs. Norris?" a hoarse voice asked.

Ron identified the voice as Mr. Filch's and hurried behind a pillar. Amazingly, Filch passed the stone structure without checking for students lurking behind it, Mrs. Norris under his arm.

"Stupid, old git," Ron muttered when he thought that Filch was out of earshot.

"There it is again!" Filch exclaimed from around the corner.

Ron cursed his idiocy and ducked into an empty classroom so he wouldn't be caught. He pressed himself against the door, listening to Filch's footsteps as they moved farther away. He sighed, closing his eyes in relief. Hermione would have never let him live down another detention.

Ron opened his eyes and saw something shining across the room. He walked over to it and recognized it as a mirror, a mirror he remembered instantly. He recalled the joy he had felt when he had seen himself as Quidditch Captain, Head Boy, and all of the things he had always wanted to be. Oddly, as he looked at the mirror then, the image was altered completely.

He looked like his normal self, wearing a knit jumper, holey trousers and trainers, everything he always wore. He wasn't anything special. His eyes fell to his hand. It was interlaced with a girl's. He looked at the girl's face, though he could have told who she was instantly by her bushy hair.

Ron didn't understand. He had never had any knowledgeable feelings for this girl, except strong dislike at times. What was the mirror trying to tell him; that he had feelings for a girl he had been a friend to for years?

"The stupid mirror's wrong," Ron spat, leaving the room hurriedly.

When he reached the common room, Hermione was sitting on the couch alone, staring into the fire.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron said in an attempt at casual conversation, sitting down to roll his essay up, but the way his hands were shaking made it fall into an even bigger mess than before. He gave up and moved to sit in a chair. "Where's Harry?" he asked when Hermione made no reply to his former comment.

Hermione looked into her lap. "He went up to the dormitories," she murmured.

Ron gave her a questioning look. "All right . . ."

There was an awkward silence, and Ron's heart boomed in his ears.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Ron . . ."

Ron waited, but Hermione trailed off and put her head in her hands. "Are you all right, 'Mione?"

Hermione looked up, smiling in a strained way. "Of course . . ."

Ron frowned. "I . . ." He stared at the expectant look on her face. "You're sure nothing's wrong?"

Hermione looked away, as if gathering her courage for something. "Harry has a theory . . ."

"A . . . theory . . . ?"

"About . . . you . . ." Ron narrowed his eyes, not sure where this was going. "And, I don't know if he's completely mistaken or not, but . . . Ron, do you fancy me?"

Ron's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Uh . . ."

"I didn't think so," Hermione muttered hurriedly, her cheeks in full, rosy bloom. "He's been trying to prove it to me through books all week," she laughed nervously, "but I knew the best way to find out for sure would be to ask you."

Ron's shocked look broke into a wide smile. "So _that's_ why you haven't told me what you've been researching! I was starting to wonder." It all made sense to him now. He began to laugh, most likely out of pure happiness.

"Well, I'm glad you find it funny," Hermione snapped, suddenly becoming offended. "I had no idea you found me so unappealing that the very mention of you _possibly_ fancying me was _laughable_!" She stood to leave huffily.

Ron reached out and grabbed her wrist, getting control of himself. "No, it's not that!" he exclaimed. "It's just . . . I was kind of jealous, and now that I know . . . what you were researching--" He cracked up again, dropping her wrist and doubling over.

Hermione scowled. "Yes, it's _so_ funny," she proclaimed sarcastically, turning to leave again.

"The thing is, I hardly even knew I fancied you before today!" Ron declared happily, springing from his seat.

Hermione stopped in her tracks. "Pardon?"

"Yes, I fancy you, Hermione Granger, and no, you're not unappealing. I saw us together in the mirror, and I realized, though I was completely stunned at first, I've fancied you for almost forever!"

Hermione turned to face him dourly. "Very funny, Ron."

Ron stepped forward and pressed his lips to hers. "I saw what I wanted in the Mirror of Erised," he muttered against her lips, "and the fact that it was you is all that matters."

**A/N: I hope that was better, if not extremely OOC. Honestly, the previous version made me want to scream because the ending was so . . . awful. I prefer screwed up characters to terrible endings, as long as the characters remind me _somewhat_ of themselves. Please review.**


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